


Ultimate Sacrifice

by ladyofthegreymist



Series: Lottie's Sacrifice [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Death, F/M, Heartbreak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-08-15
Packaged: 2018-08-08 22:16:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7775773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladyofthegreymist/pseuds/ladyofthegreymist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alistair struggles to cope with the death of his beloved. A visit from a new friend gives him the tool he needs to move ahead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ultimate Sacrifice

**_“You’re ok. Breathe. Just breathe. Open your eyes. Come back. It’s ok. It’s over now. Your’re ok. Wake up. Please wake up. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me. Don’t do this to me. I love you so much. Please come back.”_** Alistair whispered to his love, who was laying motionless in his arms.

He had watched in horror as she had plunged the heavy dragonbone sword into the skull of the Archdemon. The light that had enveloped her was blinding. She could barely stand but a force was holding her up, enveloping her in the light that must have been the soul of Urthemiel. The explosion afterwards knocked them all from their feet. Alistair had woken bloodied and bruised, unable to fully focus on the scene around him. He’d crawled across the stones toward the motionless shape of the Archdemon in the hopes of locating Charlotte. When he’d found her lifeless body he’d pulled her into his lap and rocked her, whispering endearments, kissing her pale cold face, begging the Maker to return her to  him. For a moment he thought his prayers had been answered as his loves eyes fluttered opened. They were deep green as always but there was something else behind them, they had an otherworldly look which could have only been coming from the soul of the old god she had absorbed. He was unnerved.

“Alistair…” she whispered weakly, her voice trailing off.

He had to lean forward with his ear next to her mouth to hear her. “Yes my love, yes. I’m here.”

“Alistair my darling, you must be strong. Ferelden needs you as her king….” Her voice softened to a whisper. She was beginning to fade again.

“But I need you.” He managed to say, a whine, between the sobs that wracked his body. His hands smoothing her red hair from her face.

“I love you… Cousland duty…” her voice crackled as she paused to catch a slowing breath. Alistair’s hand clutched hers on her chest over her heart. “In War, Victory… In Peace, Vigilance… In Death…”

“Sacrifice…” Alistair finished for her and watched as she slipped away from him forever. The wail he gave forth was wretched and mournful and filled with anguish. Hot salty tears spilled over his gore stained cheeks, dripping onto the bloody armour of the woman he was holding.

He paid no heed to friends and soldiers around him who all fell to their knees in reverence to the young woman in the arms of their King, her lover, who was barely 20 and who had already given more to the world than many of them had in their lifetime. They prayed to the Maker to take her to his side and keep her safe. She had done her duty. It was now her time to rest.

 

 ###

 

Alistair had insisted on bathing her and dressing her for her funeral. His actions shocking and scandalising the Court and Chantry. He had told them as King he could do as he damn well pleased. The feral look in his eyes ensured his will was carried out and he took great care in bathing her body, washing her hair and anointing her now cold skin with the rose scented oil he knew was her favourite. He cared for her in death as he had in life, when she had been ill and when she been injured. He moved her gently, spoke to her softly as if she could hear him. He had dressed her in a velvet gown of Cousland azure, the heraldry of her house emblazoned on her chest. He had kept her hair unbound and brushed it gently with his fingers so that its red curls fell around her shoulders framing the now still features of her porcelain face. He kissed her pale lips softly and placed a bright red rose in her left hand, much like the one he had given her when he had confessed his feelings for her what felt like a lifetime ago. In her right hand he had placed her father’s sword and by her feet lay her Grey Warden shield and her Cousland shield.

She was laying in state. Underneath her body on the pedestal he had placed the banners of the Couslands, the Grey Wardens and of Ferelden. The red of the Ferelden banner jarred against the blue, grey and white of the others but she had lived and died for her country and she was to have been its Queen, so it was a fitting tribute. Alistair had organised an honour guard to watch over her body day and night so as no one was to disturb the ever sleeping remains of the woman who was his love. Many volunteered for the position but he had chosen only those from their companions to take turns for the duty. They had done him… and her proud and watched over her, heads bowed as they waited the allotted time before she would be buried.

 

 ###

 

He’d chosen a wildflower strewn cliff that overlooked the Amaranthine Ocean outside Denerim to be the location of her burial site and had chosen a large marble statue of her, wearing her Grey Warden uniform to be its marker. “Let them remember her for eternity.” He had said to Eamon who had questioned his decision. “They forgot about the sacrifices of the Grey Wardens, let them NEVER forget those sacrifices again.” Eamon had bowed his head in acquiescence and had gone along with his King’s wishes.

She was buried late in the afternoon on the 14th day of Firstfall, under a cooling sun. The soft ocean breeze whipped around the mourners, Alistair’s blonde hair ruffling under his crown as he said goodbye to his love for the last time.

The King smoothed his black velvet dustcoat and took a deep breath, praying to the Maker to give him strength to get through his speech. He opened his eyes wide and took in the throng of people who had attended from far and wide. Friends, allies, people that SHE had touched in even the smallest way. It was not only he who loved her he realised. Her soft hand had reached far across the lands of Ferelden, bringing them all together to defeat the ancient evil that had threatened them. He felt kinship with these people. They were suffering with her death, just as he was.

“My friends we are gathered here to pay respects to the Grey Warden who saved us all.” Alistair gestured to the body of the woman in front of him, laying finally at rest. “She gave her life to destroy the Blight. A sacrifice we must never forget. It was no accident that she was there either. She was special. And each of us had our life touched by her in some way.”

Alistair paused, tears stinging his eyes, Wynne and Leliana approached him both placing a hand on each of his arms. His voice waivered. “I…” he closed his eyes, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill forth. “I thought we would be together forever…. The Grey Warden’s couldn’t have asked for anyone finer. How do you sufficiently honour someone such as she? The Warden’s will erect a monument in her honour at Weisshaupt, but she will be buried here, in Ferelden, among her kith and kin, so that we might remember and honour her sacrifice in our own way.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat he continued. “The Grey Warden’s must rebuild in Ferelden. To that end I bestow upon them the Arling of Amaranthine and Vigil’s Keep so that they may once again be a force to be reckoned with in our country. Let it be heard that recruits will be accepted from all walks of life and that all honour will go to those who take up the mantle of the Grey.”

The rest of the funeral was a blur to Alistair. Friends and allies stepped forward to say a few words in reverence to their Hero and accept boons given to honour their victory and her sacrifice. He didn’t remember Sten and Teagan pushing him onto the back of his black charger, leading him back to Denerim as he slumped in his saddle. A man broken.

 

 ###

 

The rest of the month didn’t go well either. Alistair was in a trance, Eamon had given Teagan his Arling to rule and stayed in Denerim as advisor to the King. In truth Eamon took over many of the duties left to Alistair, with his monarch being a shell of his former self. In the King’s study late one afternoon, the older man took it upon himself to attempt to break Alistair’s trance.

“Alistair… Alistair?”

The young man looked up at Eamon with black bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn’t slept since the victory and in honesty he probably hadn’t.

“Hmm?” he replied.

“I just wanted to say that…” Eamon didn’t want to hurt the boy, but the country needed her King now more than ever. “I just wanted to say that Charlotte was a good woman. I understand you are grieving over her loss, but she knew her duty well enough, as you must know yours. Do you truly believe that she would be happy seeing you like this, when you have so much to achieve and so much to rebuild?”

Alistair’s eyes narrowed. “We were supposed to rebuild together.” Was his short answer. “Eamon, I feel like a piece of me went with her, she and I… we had something, we had each other’s back. We both knew loss, we both knew heartache and we rebuilt ourselves together. Together we stood stronger….” Alistair trailed off. “I don’t expect you to understand.” He muttered and looked away, outside his window to the waning Winter afternoon.

Eamon sighed. He’d realised that nothing else would be achieved in that afternoon and left the young man to his memories. Quietly slipping from the room, he shut the door.

Alistair watched the door close and slumped onto the table sobbing, tears falling silently onto the dark wood.

 

 ###

 

It had been 3 weeks since he lost her. Another day lost in his memories, he was losing weight fast, his Grey Warden hunger had waned. His hunger for life had waned. The last thread of a life he had thrown himself headlong into for a little under a year had been cut. He was drifting in a sea of emotions, guilt, anger, sadness all threatened to drown him. Without her he wasn’t sure how much longer he would last.

A knock at the door snapped him from his revelry.

“Enter” he managed to croak. His mouth was dry. He reached for the jug of Brandy on his desk and poured himself a cup, draining it in one mouthful. When he looked up Eamon was with him in his room accompanied by a man dressed in a burgundy dustcoat and brown breeches.  

“Your majesty, I apologise for the intrusion but there is someone to see you. May I introduce Fergus Cousland.”

Alistair stood in shock crashing into the table in front of him. His jug of brandy slopping onto the paperwork surrounding it.

“Blast and damnation.” He muttered attempting to mop up the mess with his handkerchief.

“Your majesty if this isn’t the best time?”

“When will it ever BE the best time Eamon?” the young King snapped, instantly regretting. “I’m sorry Eamon… Please leave us I’m sure the Teryn and I have much to discuss.”

“Of course your majesty.” Eamon quietly left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Alistair approached the man who was the brother of his love. He held his hand out and the man took it their forearms clasped in the embrace of men who were comrades. Comrades in grief.

“Fergus… Teryn Cousland. I… We… that is Lottie and I, thought you were dead.” Alistair looked at the man in front of him. He was broad of shoulder and strong of jaw with deep brown eyes and brown auburn hair. He didn’t much look like Lottie but there was something if you looked close enough the set of that jaw and the depth of the man’s eyes set them as siblings.

“Your majesty…”

“Alistair, please.” He interjected.

“Of course. Alistair. I… never actually made it to Ostagar, we were scouting the wilds when we were attacked by Darkspawn, it wiped out my regiment but somehow I managed to survive and was taken in by an Ash Warrior tribe. My injuries were severe It took me months to recover and then by the time I actually found my way out of the Wilds it was too late. I sent a missive to Highever, but you can imagine how that turned out. I decided to come here, to find word about what had happened. Little did I know that my own baby sister was the Hero of Ferelden everyone talked about. A Grey Warden. The one who sacrificed herself to slay the Archdemon. She always knew her duty that one. Mother and Father would be proud…” his voice thick with emotion trailed off.

“Yes… Yes she did.” Alistair whispered.

“Alistair. I’ve heard rumours were you and Lottie?”

“Lovers? Best Friends? Soul Mates?”

“Yes.”

“We were all that and more.” Alistair hung his head, squeezing tears from his eyes.

“I… I understand. I expect that Lottie told you how I lost my wife and son?”

“She did. Howe got his justice. I watched her rend his head from his shoulders with your Father’s sword, but not before she recited the list of loved ones she had lost that night. I’d never seen her filled with so much hate and passion as I did in that moment. It was almost as if the spirit of Justice had filled her. It frightened me out of my wits, but it took a lot out of her, I almost had to carry her out of the Estate and that night she cried in my arms. I think they were tears of relief.”

Fergus nodded. “I only wish I had been there to help her.”

“You know she never truly thought you dead? After Ostagar she had demanded we head back into the wilds to search for you. There was only 3 of us at the time. Well 4 if you include Commander. Our companion and I had to talk her out of it, with the darkspawn about we couldn’t risk it. There was only 2 Grey Wardens left in the whole of Ferelden and we needed to keep ahead of Loghain.”

“I don’t blame you Alistair. You did what you had to do to keep her and yourselves safe. She would have known. Cousland duty.”

“Cousland duty… Yes she said as much to me… when she died.”

Fergus placed a hand on his King’s arm. “I’m glad you found each other. You know she had never planned to marry? It drove Mother to distraction. She was a wild one, headstrong, she had not met a man who could tame her. I told her as much the night I left Highever. It is a credit to you that she had chosen you to be her man. She obviously saw something in you that changed her mind.”

Alistair gave the man a small smile. “Thank you Fergus, I just wish I had something more of her to keep.”

The other man pulled a worn leather bound journal from his coat. “Alistair, Leliana found this in her belongings. She gave it to me for safe keeping. I think she was confused as to who it should belong to. I’ve read through it. By what… whom she was writing about. I think it belongs to you.” Fergus opened the journal to the middle, there was a red rose pressed between the yellowing pages.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> An AU ending for my Charlotte (Lottie) Cousland. There will be more added to this ending at a later date. This is not Lottie's canonical ending, THAT will be somewhat happier. 
> 
> As usual Bioware owns everything including my soul.
> 
> Thank you all for reading. xx


End file.
